


See You Next Summer

by thesnadger



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff and Feels, Friendship, Gen, One Year Later, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9784310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnadger/pseuds/thesnadger
Summary: The end of summer, one year later. See how far we've come?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A super-quick Finaleversary fic. Thanks to Scribe for being willing to beta fics I toss at her with zero warning at the spur of the moment. Love to her, and to everyone I’ve met through Gravity Falls.

**The end of summer. 2012.**

Candy and Grenda go back to Grenda's place after seeing Mabel off. They'd planned a sleepover in advance, knowing that they'd need several hours of cuddling, cookie dough and playing dress up with Grenda's lizard to ease the sting of saying goodbye. Candy sits up on Grenda's shoulders, because they need Grendy to help themselves feel big and tough right now, and Grenda makes howling and roaring sounds for all she's worth, but it's still a sad day.

They pass Pacifica sitting out on the curb. She looks like she might be waiting for someone. Actually, by the way she's sitting with her face in her hands, she looks like she might have been waiting for a while. Candy glances down at Grenda, and a look passes between them. Should they ask if something's wrong? Somehow even after living through the end of the world, after seeing all social order turned upside down, it would still feel weird to go up to the most popular girl in school (the same girl who's cut them up with cruel words more times than they can count) and ask if she's all right.

Mabel would have done it. But Mabel isn't there, and Candy and Grenda both badly want to get home to the blanket nest and stack of videos they know is waiting for them, so they walk on and leave Pacifica alone.

 

**2013\. The end of summer.**

Pacifica isn't exactly _friends_ with Candy and Grenda. No, no, she'd never call them that. But, you know. Hanging out with them makes her look good by comparison.

Their middle school is outside Gravity Falls's city limits, and more than half of the kids who go there have no idea that the world nearly ended one summer ago. That makes it hard for Pacifica to relate to most of her friends. It's even harder to be around her parents. So when Candy and Grenda invited her to their pre-party sleepover at Grenda's house, she'd surprised herself by saying yes. It wasn't as if it'd be the first time she'd been seen in public with them, anyway. They'd already come to her rescue after she'd angered that tiny civilization that had been living under her parents' garage. And she'd helped them bribe a courier to get some weird glowing packages to Mabel.

Pacifica rides on the back of Grenda's bike, clinging to her shoulders as they barrel down the hill. Candy pedals a short distance behind, giggling wildly. Pacifica feels nauseous and dizzy and kind of excited, all at the same time.

 

**The end of summer. 2012.**

Wendy lays on her back across the counter of the gift shop, not even making a pretense of working. She's not sure why she showed up, honestly. The Shack isn't even open, no one's giving tours, but she's starting school again tomorrow and for reasons she couldn't explain if you put a gun to her head, she wants to spend her last day of freedom here. At work. Even knowing there's no chance she could get a cheapskate like Stan to pay her for showing up when he didn't ask her to. Though really, she doesn't even work for him anymore. Not since he gave the Shack to Soos.

She rests her feet on the cash register and moans about the upcoming year. She's only half-joking when she says she did better in an apocalyptic wasteland than she did in high school. She doesn't fit there. It isn't just the academic part, it's everything. It's just not for her.

Soos is trying to listen sympathetically, but his gaze keeps drifting over to the fez hanging off a hook in the corner. He'd put it on again after Dipper and Mabel's birthday party, in front of the bathroom mirror. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the fez on himself—he'd tried it on sneakily dozens of times over the years, whenever Mr. Pines left it unattended. But for once it wasn't just a dream. It was real. It meant something now.

He fingers the claw marks left on the counter by the Gremloblin Dipper brought in when Stan went on vacation and left Mabel in charge. He'd been pretty excited at Mabel's hug-centric approach to business, one he'd initially hoped Mr. Pines might take a shine to eventually. He was over the moon when she showed him his new costume. But Mr Pines had been right...he couldn't handle the responsibility of being a question mark. Mabel couldn't handle running the Shack, at least not the way she wanted to. And Mabel and Dipper were like, tiny little superheroes. If she couldn't handle this job, what makes him think that he can?

 

**2013\. The end of summer.**

Soos straightens the fez so that the tassel won't flop over his face while he's driving and opens the passenger door of his pickup truck.

“Hop in! We're not stopping till we hit party central! Or until we hit a stoplight. We'll probably stop then, too.”

Wendy snorts and climbs in, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. “Thanks for the ride, Soos. I can totally get you back for this now that I've got my license.”

“Ain't no thing, dawg.” Soos smiled. “Least I can do after you put out that fire in the gift shop last week.”

“Heh, yeah. That totally wasn't your fault, though, you told that guy from Topeka that the Chimera didn't like flash photography.”

Soos chuckles and turns on the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Six months ago, an incident like that would have probably sent him into a panic. But now, he takes things like that in stride. It wasn't as if there had never been fires, or roof collapses, or sky-shark attacks when Mr. Pines had been in charge of things. Things like that were probably just part of running your own business. Something Soos just barely, on a good day, believes he's getting the hang of.

“Hey, don't you have to go back to school on Monday? You haven't been complaining about it at all. What gives?”

Wendy flips the brim of her hat up and smiles. “Eh. School still sucks and all, but last year wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Turns out getting a reputation as a badass survivalist actually gains you some street cred. Plus, this year I get to take shop class and mess around with power tools, so that'll be kinda cool.”

“Neat. Lemmie know if you need any pointers, I can jazz up a birdhouse like nobody's business.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Wendy smirks, nodding at the radio. “Oh hey, turn it up!”

“Seriously? I thought you hated this song.” Soos says, adjusting the dial.

“I do. But hey, memories, right?”

 

**The end of summer. 2012.**

So much about these woods feels distantly familiar. And so much of it feels completely alien.

Ford keeps his hand on Stan's arm as they walk, not quite willing to let him go. It's irrational, really. Stan's recovery has been impressively quick, Ford has no reason to act like this...as if he's going to get confused and wander off suddenly. But the contact is as much for Ford's sake as Stan's. A reminder that his brother is still there. A reminder that _he's_ there with him. That they're together, and all of this is real.

Everything in this dimension seems just slightly left of familiar to him now. An uncanny-valley sort of feeling, one that reminds him at every turn just how long he's been away. Stan laughed so hard the first time Ford had tried talking to an ATM machine. He wasn't laughing so much when one of the rubber-masked monsters in some silly television program they were watching sent Ford into a panic attack.

For the most part, Ford had spent the past few days hovering over Stan. Even after the bulk of Stan's memories returned, Ford still felt jumpy. Anxious. Guilty, if he was being honest. Guilty that he had taken something so extreme for him to finally appreciate his brother.

But that was all right. All that meant was that, well, that he'd have to make up for lost time.

Ford's fingers dig into the sleeve of Stan's “goodbye sweater” as they walk. Stan's humming something—some quiet, tuneless melody that fills the silence between them, and Ford feels affection wash over him at the familiar habit. He remembers Stan making up nonsense melodies and singing to himself while he worked on his car or bounced a ball against their bedroom door. On impulse, he throws an arm over Stan's shoulders, pulling him a little closer and holding him a little tighter, a part of him still afraid that he might slip away.

 

**2013\. The end of summer.**

Stan remembers these woods. He spent a few decades of his life searching through them, looking for something that had been under his nose the whole time.

He remembers the house they're now headed to, even if he's never had much reason to be inside it before. He remembers everything now. Or, if not everything, at least as much as a man his age might be expected to remember. That's enough for him.

He's had a whole year of new memories since that day he woke up the clearing, somewhere in these woods. It's been...well. It's been a good year. And a bad one. There have been some dark times in it, and hard times, and plenty of dangers, for both him and Ford. But looking back on it...it's been good. One of his better years. One that he'll be glad to remember.

He notices a twig stuck to Ford's sweater, and absently reaches over to pick it off. Ford's sweater is green, while his is blue, but both of them have “Welcome Back!” written on the front of them in colorful bubble lettering. Stan grins a little, lifts his hand and ruffles Ford's hair, pushing it so that it flops over his face even more than usual.

“Cut it out!” Ford laughs. “What was that for?”

Stan shrugs. “Bein' a nerd?”

“Pfft. That's your excuse for everything you do to me.”

“Only because it always fits.”

Ford elbows him, and the two of them laugh as they walk, and it's a beautiful day. Sometimes, a beautiful day isn't enough. Sometimes a good day and a walk in the woods and even, against all odds, his family by his side telling him they love him, sometimes it isn't enough. But today it is, and Stan Pines is happy.

Ford grins a childish grin at him, pointing up the path. “We're nearly there! Race you the rest of the way?”

Stan is off and running without even a reply, and he hears Ford protest that's cheating before the sound of running footsteps follow behind him. Maybe he'll get there first, and maybe Ford will, but it doesn't really matter in the end. His brother's there with him, and after a year, Stan's starting to really believe he always will be.

 

**The end of summer. 2012.**

“Ready to head into the unknown?” Dipper asks.

“Nope.” Mabel takes a deep breath. “Let's do it.”

Mabel looks at the figures running alongside the bus, watches as they fade into the distance behind it, then sighs deeply and settles into her seat. Waddles nestles into her. Maybe he senses a need for comfort in Mabel, or maybe he's just unsteady because the bus has started moving and he wants someone to snuggle up with for stability. Probably a little bit of both.

She still doesn't know how she feels about high school. She's not sure how she feels about a lot of things. But there are a few things she is sure of, and one of them is sitting next to her.

Dipper pushes the brim of Wendy's hat away from his face, briefly exposing the birthmark on his forehead before his hair flops down to cover it up again. _Read it the next time you miss Gravity Falls_ , Wendy had said.

Dipper looks out the window and sees a sign telling them what town they're leaving. He feels a lump in his throat, and opens the letter.

 

**2013\. The end of summer.**

“Aren't you ready yet?” Mabel taps her foot. “You've been messing around with that tree stump for forever. Are you sure it doesn't just _look_ like it has a face?”

“Just five more minutes!” Dipper promises. “I _know_ I saw it open its eyes earlier. Great Uncle Ford's gonna flip when I bring him a picture of this.”

“Or he's gonna die of old age waiting for you! C'mon, everyone else is probably there already!”

“All right, all right.” Dipper sighs and put his camera away, hurrying to catch up to Mabel.

Going back to Piedmont after all the crazy stuff that  happened last summer had been kind of surreal. But in its own way, coming back has been weirder. He isn't sure whether the town has changed or they have. Probably both. Sometimes Dipper thinks about how different things might have been if he'd never found Ford's journal in the woods. Not in terms of the big things, like Ford not coming back or the Rift never opening. But littler things.

The journal got him to open his eyes and explore Gravity Falls in a way he hadn't before. And not just when it came to supernatural things. When he was really looking at the world around him, he saw people differently too.

Mabel gives Dipper's arm a yank as she runs, all but dragging him behind her, grinning her recently braces-free smile as she hurries down the sidewalk to the big iron gates. These past three months were just what she needed. A whole year of phone calls and video hangouts and typing the word “hug” into instant messengers and finally, _finally_ she's been getting a chance to be in the same room as all of her friends and her family. Finally she's been getting proper hugs and singing and dancing and a thousand other things that just aren't the same long distance.

Deep down, when she said goodbye to Candy and Grenda last year, a part of her wondered if it was _goodbye_ goodbye. People were always saying that long distance friendships didn't work, that people grew apart, that it was just the way things were, and the idea of that scared her. But after a year, it scares her a lot less. A lot of scary things scare her less now.

The two of them run through the wide-open gates of the mansion.

 

**The end of summer. 2012.**

Fiddleford plucks his banjo, the notes echoing against the distant walls of one of at least a dozen bedrooms in this big old barn. In the corner, a raccoon nibbles at a piece of decorative fruit, realizes her mistake and spits out the tasteless nugget of wax.

It was surely nice to move into a place that would be cool in the summer and warm in the winter, he thinks to himself. There's no doubt about that. But a place as big as this one feels kind of lonesome when it's empty.

 

**2013\. The end of summer.**

By the time Dipper and Mabel arrive, the party is in full swing. What's it celebrating? Fiddleford doesn't rightly remember, but any excuse for a hootenanny is fine by him.

Every room is a rush of noise and warmth and people. People he knows, and people he doesn't know yet. He stands at the top of the staircase, overlooking the room below him and smiles. Seems like half the town showed up today.

Normally things are quieter. But even on an ordinary day, he keeps his door open to visitors. Tate visits him on the regular. So does Pacifica, even though she puts up a big show of saying it's just so she can see what a mockery he's making of her home. There are people in his home who come to see him, people who come out of curiosity about the newly open gates, and people who come just because they needed someplace safe to sleep, and he welcomes them all equally. Sometimes he'll poke his head into a room he'd thought was empty and find he has a guest that he didn't even know about.

Fiddleford's new shack is still big, but it's never empty. Not anymore.

It's been a good summer.


End file.
